


In Dreams

by Luthe



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 06:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthe/pseuds/Luthe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skywalkers always did have interesting dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place before ANH.

He dreams of sand. He doesn't know why, as he rejected that Sith-forsaken planet years before, and yet, he dreams of sand and suns and the blazing heat of Tatooine.

He's never wearing the mask in his dreams, and his body is perfect, unmarred by lost limbs and burned flesh. If his hands seem a little more slender than they should be, if his perspective in slightly lower than it should be, that's all right. He is free of the damnable suit at least, even if he seems to be stuck upon a dustball of a planet.

A dustball of a planet filled with unpleasant memories. In his sleep, he sees the homestead where his mother is buried. His conscious mind rages at the thought, but in his dreams the only word for the place is 'home.' He lives there in his dreams, for reasons he can't quite explain. There is a connection, a reason his dream-self calls that place home, but he cannot fathom it. It merely makes him angry if he thinks of it on waking.

Tonight's dream at least offers some variety. He is flying the canyons again, like he did when he was young. The craft is not a pod though; it is larger and more ungainly. Somehow, this does not affect how he flies it. He still slaloms through the winding rock formations at top speed, doing things that would be suicide for anyone less skilled at flying than he is. Something small and niggling at the back of his mind tells him he should stop, he has to go home and do chores, but he ignores it in favor of the freedom of flight. Some other part of his mind asks who would dare make him do chores, in the fact of his power, but it too is ignored.

The dream continues until a buzzer in his chamber wakes him. Darth Vader rises and goes to face the day, having actually had pleasant dreams for once.

 

* * *

 

He dreams of space. Sure, sometimes he dreams of a green, lush planet full of elaborately dressed people, but mostly, he dreams of space.

Space is always cold, and stark. There seems to be no color there, with everything being either black, white, or gray. The world is a little fuzzed out and gray anyway, but even beyond that, everything is monochromatic. Even the soldiers on the -his?- ship are monocromatic.

He always has a nagging feeling of power in these dreams, even as is tempered by the fact that when he tries to see himself, all he sees is blackness. Black gloves, black armor, black cape. He wonders when he started dressing like that, and when he got so tall.

The insistent whooshing sound in the background is taken for granted. That's what space sounds like.

He doesn't get to fly as often as he would like in these dreams. Most of the time, he just paces the corridor of the huge ship he seems to command. Sometimes, he peers out the windows for long stretches, thinking about all the stars.

Today's dream is different, though. Today's dream has a strange red sword thing in it. He had noticed the handle in other dreams, but he never knew what it did until now. Now, he is in a room full of droids, all attacking him, and he is slashing at them with his sword. It feels good, he realizes. It feels powerful. Like he has all the power in the world and he can do whatever he wants with it. Something in his says this is wrong, that that's not what power is for, but that voice is shushed.

The red sword slices through droid after droid until there are none left. Yes, he is powerful. He can defeat all enemies.

Luke awakens to Aunt Beru shaking him. He stumbles out of bed and towards the 'fresher, still shaken from his dreams. 


End file.
